By Horace Gore
It takes a much better hunter to kill 10 squirrels with a .22 rifle than to kill a 10-point buck with a .30-06—Goreism
Squirrel hunting in Texas has become a lost art. Most hunters who talk about hunting squirrels with their favorite .22 rifle are over 50 years old. Oh, yes! You hear lots of talk about deer hunting, or dove hunting, or even turkey or quail hunting, but seldom do you hear a squirrel hunting story. I guess you could say squirrel hunting went the way of skating rinks, kite flying, moonshine, and sweet Garrett snuff.
When Ike Eisenhower was president, there were a lot of squirrel hunters, mostly east of the Brazos River. This story is about two squirrel hunters who have hunted together for 60 years. They grew up in very different lifestyles, one in the flat woods of northeast Texas, and the other along the Guadalupe River in Gonzales County. One had friends and relatives to take him hunting; the other had Jim Tiller. I speak of my close friend, Al Brothers, and yours truly. I consider us to be two of the best squirrel hunters in Texas.
Al grew up hunting squirrels in the Guadalupe River bottom east of Gonzales. His folks spent a lot of time overseas with an oil company, while Al and his twin brother, David, lived with relatives and went to school in Gonzales. Their only claim to fame early in life was burning down the barn when they built a good fire on a cold, windy winter day. Al had friends who squirrel hunted and he started floating the San Marcos and Guadalupe rivers, shooting squirrels on both banks, at an early age. He claims to have killed his first buck with a borrowed .30-30 when he was 12, but I suspect he may have killed a doe or two with his .22 when he was squirrel hunting.
Al doesn’t have an illegal bone in his body, but he might take advantage of a good situation.
I grew up in Bowie County in northeast Texas, not far from the Red River. The area is generally flat with a lot of creeks and plenty of squirrels. There were no deer or turkey, and squirrel hunting was the thing. Two favorite places to go for a three-to-four-day squirrel hunt were the Sulphur River bottom and Anderson Creek, just to the south of Hooks, now a part of Wright Patman Lake. Two species of squirrels frequented these two spots: fox and grays.
Jim Tiller got me interested in hunting squirrels. He was retired, about 65 years old, and hunted squirrels with dogs. When I was about 13, I would go with Mr. Tiller and “turn” the squirrels for him, as the dog barked that a squirrel was up the tree. I made a lot of noise and shook vines or anything that would cause the squirrel to go to the other side of the tree trunk. Jim would be ready, and when the squirrel turned his way, he would “roll it out.” He let me shoot a few squirrels, and I can thank Mr. Tiller for getting me into the woods and teaching me how to hunt.
If you think sitting in a warm deer blind by a feeder is hunting, I invite you to go after squirrels in high timber with a .22 rifle. You’ll find that this is real hunting, requiring not only patience and shooting skill, but a good knowledge of the woods and the game you’re after. It may bring you to your knees! I’ve said many times that it takes a better hunter to kill 10 squirrels with a .22, than to kill a 10-point buck with a .30-06.
Al and I first met at Texas A&M University in 1958. He was in his second year as a wildlife science student and a Corps cadet. I had been out of the Army for about a year, transferring from Texarkana Junior College on the GI Bill and was also enrolled as a wildlife student. We grew to be close friends at A&M, and we’re still close today. Hunting and guns, along with other minor things have kept Brothers and me together as friends for all these years. At A&M, we soon found a connection that has lasted for 60 years—wildlife and hunting.
We’ve never had an argument or a cross word—pretty good for 60 years, don’t you think?
Al and I got closer with our squirrel hunting when I moved from Austin to the Kokernot Ranch in Gonzales County. The ranch house was less than a mile from where Al had killed his first buck. I lived on the ranch for 22 years, and during that time, Al and I hunted squirrels on the Guadalupe River every chance we got. Fox squirrels were most common, but right along the river, gray squirrels were a part of the game. June was a good time to hunt when the anaqua fruit was ripe. Squirrels go crazy over anaqua berries.
As a rule, a good hunt for us would be three or four squirrels in a morning hunt. Al hunted on a four-wheeler because of being injured in a helicopter crash in 1976. I was on foot and could cover ground not accessible to Al on the four-wheeler. However, Al was a patient hunter and could shoot a squirrel in the head at 50 yards with his Anschutz .22 and Leopold scope. He often brought in more than I did, all shot in the head! At that time, my favorite squirrel rifle was a Winchester bolt action 69A with a 2½ power Weaver scope. At squirrel shooting distance, it would make a ragged hole out of three shots.
I recall one spring when the anaqua was especially good and squirrels were thick as fleas on a coyote. Al came up for a two-day hunt on the neighboring ranch where Al grew up that belongs to the Turk family. Gen. Sam Turk went to A&M with us back in the day. The ranch has a lot of anaqua in a situation that is good for Al on his four-wheeler. We would hunt two mornings.
The rest of this story may make Brothers and me out to be game hogs. But let me assure you that even though we sometimes got lucky and killed a good many squirrels, not a one was wasted. We have eaten squirrels every way you can think of: fried, barbequed, stewed, dumplings, grilled, squirrels ‘n’ gravy, just to name a few. We never set a limit and did all of our hunting where there was no bag limit. We just hunted as long as the wind was still, and squirrels were jumping.
The first morning I left Al in an open flat with lots of anaqua, and I went into a thick slough that had some anaqua around the edges. We were not too far apart, and I could hear Al’s Anschutz crack every now and then. I soon found fox and gray squirrels in the slough timber, and I had a happy time chasing both. When the smoke cleared, I was carrying 11 fox and gray squirrels in my bags on each hip.
Al had been shooting all morning, and I knew he had a good batch of squirrels. What I didn’t know was how many. When we got to the ranch house and counted, we each had 11, or a total of 22 squirrels to skin. We finally got them all cleaned and put in the fridge and sat around talking about that being our best squirrel hunt together in all the years. Al reminded me most of his were shot in the head, while most of mine were gut-shot.
The next morning, we were back on the Turk ranch, in generally the same areas where we had killed 22 squirrels the previous morning. Again, I chased gray and fox squirrels, while Al saw mostly fox on the flat. We hunted until about 9, when the wind got up, and met for the count. Al had 11 squirrels scattered over the four-wheeler, and I pulled 11 fox and grays out of my bag. We had killed another 22 squirrels for the second morning in a row—44 squirrels in two days! “This has got to be a county record,” Al said. “Maybe a state record,” I replied, knowing it was more likely a world record. And by the way, that was our record. We killed and ate a lot of squirrels after those hunts, but never again shot 44 squirrels back to back!
